


Child's Best Friend

by Ananfal



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 04:39:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18491533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ananfal/pseuds/Ananfal
Summary: Ivy and Carley were best friends.





	Child's Best Friend

The first time Ivy raised a zombie was when she was seven. She had woken up to Carley curled up in bed with her, which wouldn’t have been so unusual, except for the fact that Carley had died the night before, and had been buried in the backyard.

The thing that stuck out to her the most wasn’t the fact that Carley was now a zombie and in bed with her, but the fact that her clearly decaying flesh didn't smell. Nor did it feel particularly unpleasant as she stroked her little hand down the dead dog’s spine (the bone peeking through in some places, but she made no notice).

“Carley, why are you here?” She asked the zombie, but the dog just stuck her tongue out at her (the tip was missing - how did that happen?) and barked, her bony stub of a tail wagging so furiously Ivy was worried the bones might detach themselves from the force. “And how did you bark without a throat?”

Putting aside the questions for later, the solemn seven year old child lifted her covers and swung her feet over the side of the bed, slipping into her slippers and softly padding out of her room and down the hallway. Carley the zombie dog followed her eagerly, the small sounds of her bone paws clicking against the ground not dissimilar to the sound her claws had made on the hardwood floors when she was alive.

Clutching onto the banister, Ivy made her way down to the kitchen. Obviously Carley didn’t need anything to eat, but Ivy was still a child and it was almost a guarantee that when a child awoke in the middle of the night, they needed a glass of milk. Stretching up onto her tiptoes, she just managed to snag a glass from the cabinet above the sink, sharing a smile with Carley before heading to the refrigerator.

She got the milk out with minimal difficulty, only spilling a little when she poured it into her glass, and gave a small sigh of relief as she sipped the cold white liquid. Wiping away the small milk moustache left behind, she glanced down at Carley and contemplated the situation with all of the seriousness a seven year old child could muster.

She couldn’t let her parents know about this. They were already worried about her, since she was so much quieter and more mature than the other children her age. They didn’t like the fact that she wasn’t exactly what they wanted in a child. If she showed them anything else different, they might just give up on her entirely. Ivy loved her parents, but it was the love of a child, and couldn't stand up against the logic of an adult.

Therefore she had to get rid of Carley before her parents woke up in the morning. A small lump appeared in her throat. She knew she couldn’t keep Carley hidden from them forever. She had to go back. Back into the ground. Tears blurred her eyes but Ivy gave a resolute sniff and refused to let them fall. This had to be done, even she knew that, and at least she knew that Carley wasn’t in pain this time.

Finishing the last of her milk, she slid out of her chair and softly padded over to the cabinets, opening one with her fingertips and just being able to snag the salt bottle. She knew that salt tended to cancel magic spells (it said so in the books) and she really didn’t know what she was doing, so every little thing helped. Iron was also said to cancel magic, so she hunted around and managed to grab an iron pipe from the entrance to the backyard. It was leftover from one of her dad’s projects.

Thusly armed, Ivy turned to Carley, who cocked her head inquisitively. “Come on, Carley. Let’s go.” The little girl said, sniffing again as she prepared herself to say goodbye to her beloved friend once again. Shuffling out into the backyard, still wearing her slippers, she made her way over the grass to Carley’s grave, the dirt still disturbed from the small dog clawing its way out earlier in the night.

“Sit there, Carley.” She ordered, pointing at the overturned dirt with the iron pipe, the zombie dog automatically obeying the commands of its owner. Awkwardly opening the bottle of salt, she dumped the contents of the bottle over the little dog before tapping her on the head with the iron pipe. “Go back.”

Carley gave her a look that basically read, “Really?” Ivy flushed but repeated herself, pointing at the grave with the iron pipe. “Go back into the ground Carley! Go on, back!” She could have sworn the little dog rolled its (rotting) eyes before sinking below the ground, the dirt smoothing over as though nothing had happened that night. She stood there for a minute, holding the empty bottle of salt and the pipe, just staring at the grave of her best friend. Then, slowly, she turned back towards the house.


End file.
